From the Mouth of Babes
by GialiaSpirtdancer
Summary: When a child is born at Xavier's school, all sorts of things start going horribly wrong, leaving Morgan and Kurt with a terrible choice. Another Installment in "The Adventures of Morgan Flannigan"
1. Default Chapter

A few words before we jump into the story.  
  
DISCLAIMER::: No, I don't own the x-men. They're a nifty idea, and gee I wish I thought of them, but I don't claim to own or make a profit off of any of them. I DO however own Clan Flannigan, and feel the need to make as much use of them as I possibly can.  
  
Also, I find it necessary to switch from first to third person, for reasons that will become clear as the story progresses. It was either that, or make myself sound schizophrenic, which I really didn't want to do. Heh.  
  
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I'm sure I'm going to enjoy writing it, and as much as I enjoyed the last one.  
  
Thank you all so much!  
  
-Gialia Spiritdancer.

* * *

Morgan reached for the tea kettle whistling on the stove and cursed, snatching her hand back from the exposed metal on the broken handle. At some point, the enamel that had kept the handle cool had broken and cracked, and she'd forgotten about it. Hissing, she ran for the sink and turned on the faucet, shoving her hand under the ice cold water. Stupid, she thought, hot objects require handling with care!  
  
"Morgan? Are you okay?" Margaret's voice came from the living room.  
  
"I'm fine Mom." Morgan yelled back. "I just burned my hand, that's all." She ran the water over it until it stopped stinging and the rest of her hand was frozen, and then turned it off just as her mother came into the room.  
  
"Let me see it." Margaret demanded, grabbing a towel off the counter and pulling Morgan's hand into it. An angry red line stood out in sharp contrast against her snow white skin, bridging the gaps between her fingers and running between her second and third knuckles. "Oh, nice one." Margaret murmured. "You should be more careful Morgan."  
  
Morgan shrugged. "I had my mind on other things." She said softly.  
  
"Like certain blue, fuzzy mutants?" Margaret prodded, and Morgan rolled her eyes. Why did her mother keep bringing him up?  
  
"Mom, seriously, I'm not ready to talk about that yet." Morgan said.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just think that maybe you're being too hasty-"  
  
"Dammit mom!" Morgan pulled her hand back from her mother's tender grip, and sighed. "It's my life, it's my decision. I'm going to do what I think is right, and that's the end of it." With another great sigh, she stalked out of the kitchen and snatched up her keys from the table next to the front door. "I need to get some air."  
  
She slammed the front door a bit harder than she meant to upon exiting the house, wincing and casting a backward glance as she trotted down the stairs of the front porch and down the sidewalk. Her blue 2004 Pontiac Aztec-brand new and shiny- booped gently at her when she pressed the button on her key chain. The driver's seat was cool against her as she slid into it, and for a moment she simply sat in the drivers seat, enjoying the silence afforded her.  
  
Then, she heard her mother calling her name.  
  
It took less than thirty seconds for her to start the truck and drive away. The guilt at leaving like that took at least a few minutes more. Why did she always have to bring him up? It had been two months since she'd last seen Kurt, and still she hadn't come any closer to figuring out how she felt about him. If anything, she was more confused than ever.  
  
It didn't help that he'd been distant and uncertain over the phone with her. Oh, he was friendly enough-he was always friendly- but when she brought up the issue of what had happened between them, he avoided it altogether. Kurt had never struck her as the type to avoid a subject, and the whole thing had frustrated and hurt her. Of course, she couldn't tell him that, because he avoided that as well. He kept the conversation strictly on her family, and how the city was handling the aftermath of serial killing spree. Oh, and he would update her on how things were going at the mansion, and how her siblings Deena and Riley were doing in the first year at Xavier's. Other than that, she might as well be talking to her Aunt Ruth.  
  
Frustrated, Morgan began cycling through the CDs she had in the car stereo currently. One lovely thing about the Aztec, was that it had an amazing sound system, with stereo controls right on the steering wheel. It made music lovers like her have an easier time trying to find something to listen too.  
  
At the first discordant strains of the song, she stopped fiddling with the search options and instead cranked the volume. The masculine yells of Otep clashed with the violent guitar, as the singer's voice swelled from a deep screaming bass to her true soprano, her voice light and flirty, moving over to a deep, agonizing lament before plunging back down into her opening scream. The first time Morgan had heard her, it had been impossible to conceive that the singer was really a woman, until she'd heard it for herself.  
  
The music alone wasn't enough to calm her down. She reached into a cubby in the dash, and retrieved her cigarettes and lighter. A few moments later, and she felt the distant buzz of the nicotine as it slid into her system. It helped sooth at least some of her tension, but did nothing to alleviate the problem.  
  
Her left hand gripped the steering wheel. Her right hand, holding the cigarette between fore finger and middle, came to rest lightly on her stomach.  
  
One thing was for damn sure. There was no way she was ready to be a mother.

* * *

Otep does exist. For those of you who like industrial-oh-my-god-it's-making- my-ears-bleed music, I highly suggest you check her out. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt stared out the window morosely, watching the rainwater slip down the glass pane. The water blurred the images of the scenery outside, melting the greens and reds and whites together into their basic shapes. He sighed, and his breath fogged the window slightly, obscuring the image even more. Absently, his tail coiled and uncoiled around the leg of the chair he was sitting in.  
  
"Kurt? Hello?"  
  
Kurt turned his attention back to his computer monitor, and the person who had called him. Kitty was looking at him with concern in her warm brown eyes. There was a smudge of paint on one of her cheeks, and her lush brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The T-shirt she was wearing was gray, and it too had splotches of paint on it. "You okay?"  
  
"Ja. I'm sorry. I'm just...thinking." Kurt said. "So, how's the project going?"  
  
"No changing the subject fuzzy." Kitty said sternly. "Something's on your mind. Spill it."  
  
Kurt shifted. Perhaps an outside perspective would be a bit helpful. It had been awhile since he'd been able to have a conversation with Kitty, and it could be that she was had gained a bit more wisdom while she'd been in college. "Well," he began, "there's this woman-"  
  
"Ha!" Kitty said. "I knew it! I want details Wagner, leave nothing out!"  
  
"Be quiet, or I'll tell you nothing!" Kurt teased back. "As I was saying, there is this woman. Her name is Morgan. We met a few months ago-"  
  
"She's the one that pulled you out of the trash right?" Kitty interrupted again.  
  
"Ja. You heard about that?"  
  
"I twisted Logan's arm and he spilled the beans to me. Mainly, I think, because he's worried about you."  
  
"So you know that I, um." He paused, unsure of how to continue.  
  
"All Logan told me was that you seemed rather infatuated with her, and that the two of you spent a great deal of time together. All the gory details he left for you to divulge."  
  
"Well that was nice of him." Kurt said scathingly. He leaned back in the chair. "I'll try to be brief." He took a deep breath, and continued. "The moment I first laid eyes on Morgan, I was attracted to her. Extremely so." He said. "At some times the physical attraction was so strong, that I was contemplating things a gentleman should never contemplate." Kurt colored slightly. "Which, as you know, I am a gentleman as well as a catholic. Many of the things that would occur to me were highly inappropriate, considering that. There were even moments where the urge was so strong it was through sheer force of will that I kept myself from doing anything at all. However, there was one moment-"he paused, considering, "-I don't think I could have stopped myself if I tried."  
  
"I see." Kitty said. "So, I gather you-"she wiggled her eyebrows at him.  
  
He laughed at the absurdity of it, and then nodded. "Ja, I.. we did. It is like, when she is nearby, all rational thought leaves me, and all I can think about is, to be frank, sex. Specifically with her. Oh, I was interested in getting to know her better, certainly, but my motivations were less than honorable. I was extremely in lust with her, and my body convinced my heart that it was love."  
  
"Do you think it might be a latent gift she has?" Kitty said. "I mean, if she affects other men that way-"  
  
"I don't believe so. Everyone else seemed rather unaffected by it. Everyone except me, and I think we all chalked it up to my being infatuated with her."  
  
"How do you feel about her now?" Kitty asked.  
  
"Honestly, I don't know. When she left, and was gone for a few days, I began to feel very foolish about my behavior with and towards her. It was as if the attraction went away. Please, don't misunderstand, I very much like her, and I care for her as a friend. And she is very beautiful. I am still very much interested in seeing if there's something between us that could potentially grow into something beyond a friendship, but at the moment that's all I feel for her. Friendship."  
  
"How does she feel about you?"  
  
Kurt shifted. "I'm afraid she might be in love with me. At the very least, she's infatuated by me. I don't want to hurt her Kitty, but I'm afraid to discuss this whole situation with her. I know she wants to talk about it, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm afraid that if I see her, that feeling will just come back again. It is like she has me under a spell. Like, I feel this, but deep down I know it's not something I should trust. Does that make sense?"  
  
"A little bit." Kitty said. "How long has it been since you've seen her?"  
  
"About two months." Kurt said. He felt a pang of regret. "We talk on the phone, but it's not the same."  
  
Kitty said. "Well, Kurt, might I suggest that you two try, oh, I don't know, maybe going out on a date perhaps? See what happens? I don't think it could possibly make the situation worse."  
  
"Maybe," Kurt said doubtfully.  
  
"So how'd that situation turn out anyway?" Kitty asked, thankfully changing the subject. "The whole, serial killer demon worship thing."  
  
"Oh that." Kurt said. "We turned Candy and her brothers over to Moria. They're sleeping away on Muir Island there to stay, I assume for the rest of their lives. As for the demon, when we went to the warehouse, we couldn't find any sign of demon worship or anything like it. I believe Mrs. Flannigan when she says they were talking about it, but we think it may have just been something to throw off the police as to why the murders were really taking place."  
  
"Hmm." Kitty said. "Oh, shoot, Kurt I gotta go. Someone's knocking." And sure enough, in the background, Kurt heard someone knocking on her door.  
  
"Ja. Good bye Kitty. Take care of yourself." Kurt said.  
  
"You too elf.," Kitty smiled, and then was gone.  
  
A date. Kurt sighed and ran a hand through his hair absently, then rose from the chair stretching. He focused on popping his vertebrae, bending back until each one was popped and loosened. Too much time spent sitting down. Perhaps Kitty had something there. He'd never really had an opportunity to woo her, they were just sort of thrown together repeatedly. Still, he strongly regretted the moment of weakness that he'd shown. But waking to the feel of her in his arms, the heat of her body, the draw of her flesh, it had been too much a temptation for him to resist. And the following day, when she told him she was leaving, well, it hadn't been a moment of weakness, but a conscious disregard for the tenants of the Church. Even after confession, he still felt as if he had to answer in some other way.  
  
This time, he vowed, he would not the body over rule his mind, or his spirit. A date would be the perfect thing for him to test the waters and hopefully for Morgan too. At the very least, perhaps they could discuss the situation together, and decided how they were going to take it from that point.  
  
Resolved, he picked up the phone and dialed a number he knew almost as well as his own. A warm, feminine voiced answered. "Hello?"  
  
"Hello Mrs. Flannigan. Is Morgan there?" Kurt asked politely.  
  
"Kurt, how many times must I ask you to call me Margaret?" she chuckled, and Kurt detected a hint of Irish brogue. He knew well enough by now that Margaret normally showed her childhood speech patterns when something had her upset. "I'm afraid the wee bairn has fled the coop."  
  
"What's wrong, Margaret?"  
  
"Oh, it's just the usual. I said something I shouldn't have, and now she's off again. I wish she'd just go back to her apartment, but she doesn't feel safe there anymore. And her house hunting seems to be taking an unnecessary amount of time."  
  
"Ah, I understand." Kurt responded. That is, he understood that they'd probably been talking about him again, and that was a subject best left untouched. "Do you know if she took her cell phone with her?"  
  
"'Fraid not love. It's here on my kitchen table. I'll tell her you called though." Margaret said.  
  
"Alright. Thank you Margaret. Have a good night."  
  
"You too."  
  
Kurt hung up the phone, and sighed again. Maybe some exercise would help him get his mind off of it. At least, it was something to do other than sit and wait by the phone. Feeling a bit better about that decision, he went to his dresser to get something to change into.

* * *

Morgan dialed the number reluctantly, and brought the phone to her ear. It rang only twice before someone answered it.  
  
"Xaiver's" a very abrupt, male voice said.  
  
"Well hello Logan." Morgan smiled. "And how are you doing tonight?"  
  
"Hmph." Logan said. "Morgan. Oh, I'm doing alright, for an old man," there was a twitter of laughter in the background.  
  
"Oh I hope I'm not interrupting anything." She said.  
  
"Nope. Just some lessons for a few hardcases. Nothing new."  
  
"oh. Well, is Kurt available?" She asked.  
  
"On sec. I'll put ya on hold and see if I can't get him for ya." Logan said.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
The hold music was really rather pleasant, a classical piece in a-minor that helped some of her tension drain away.  
  
"This is Kurt." His voice came onto the phone, and her stomach knotted up. "Hello?"  
  
"It's Morgan." She said quickly. "Sorry, just got distracted there for a minute. What's up?"  
  
"Oh, hello Morgan." Kurt sounded tense to her, edgy. It didn't help her mood any. She knew what he was going to say. He didn't want to see her again, that this wasn't right, it had all been a mistake. "I was wondering, ah," he said.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Would you like to go out to dinner with me?" The words came out in a rush, and it took a moment for her to decipher them through his accent. A rush of elation filled her.  
  
"Kurt, oh, I was beginning to think you never wanted to see me again!" She exclaimed, and then immediately regretted it.  
  
"Was? No no, ach, Wagner, Sie Eel," he muttered, "Morgan, I deeply apologize. I have been very insensitive with you, and my only excuse is that I am, in fact, an ass. Will you please accept my most humble of apologies?"  
  
Despite herself, she giggled, and that hard tangle of nerves in her stomach began to loosen. "Well, I think I might be persuaded, Herr Wagner." Then, a mischievous grin slid across her face. "Geben Sie acht. Ich erlerne, Deutsches zu sprechen."  
  
There was dead silence, and then Kurt laughed. "Ja well, you may be learning, but your accent is horrible."  
  
"You'll just have to teach me to speak it properly then." She said. "Besides, what do you expect from a girl who's learning by book?"  
  
"Hmm. Well, I'll be happy to tutor you. If you would like me to." Kurt offered.  
  
"I'd love you to." Morgan said. "So, dinner? When?"  
  
"I was thinking maybe tomorrow?" Kurt said shyly. "We could get all dressed up, there's a place I know in Boston, a little Italian place. Very exclusive."  
  
Morgan felt a thrill go through her. She'd never been to Boston! "So I guess that means you'd be picking me up by jet?"  
  
"Well, of course. If you're going to travel, you should at least travel in style. Let's say, I'll pick you up around eight?" Kurt said.  
  
"Sounds perfect. I hope we get the chance to discuss a few things." She ventured.  
  
"I'm sure we will." Kurt said. "Until tomorrow then. Goodnight, Morgan."  
  
"Goodnight Kurt." Morgan hung up the receiver. Their first official date. Wasn't the first date supposed to come before the pregnancy scare? With a sigh, she picked up the box for the home test she'd bought, and sighed. "Might as well get it over with."


	3. Chapter 3

Morgan rose bright and early the following morning, and ran straight into the bathroom. After a few moments of heaving the contents of her stomach into the toilet, she splashed some cool water on her face and tried to get her breath back. "Wagner," she muttered, "I'm going to KILL you."  
  
Well, that wasn't entirely fair. After all, she was just as responsible for her condition as he was. Still, she was on the pill, so she'd figured that the last thing she had to worry about was getting pregnant. Guess she had to be that .01% lucky enough to prove that birth control pills were indeed fallible.  
  
She brushed her teeth thoroughly, and pulled a brush through her hair, then changed clothes and went downstairs. Margaret was awake, preparing breakfast for the few of the family still living at home. Mainly that consisted of Moriah, herself, and her father. The smell of frying bacon nauseated her all over again, and she swallowed hard. "I think I'm gonna pass on breakfast this morning mom. I've got some things I need to take care of today. I'll just grab something while I'm out."  
  
"Are you sure honey?" Margaret asked from the stove. "I can make you something to go-"  
  
"No no, it's okay. Thanks though." Morgan said. "I'll be gone most of the day, so, later!"  
  
The first thing she had to do today was house hunt. There were a few open houses in the area, and she'd promised herself she'd check them out. The very last thing she wanted to put up with was being pregnant and unmarried in her mother's household. While her own faith didn't declare whether being married, or even necessarily in love was important, according to her mother she was sure to be putting her soul in peril for just having pre-marital sex and being on the pill.  
  
There was no question as to whether or not she'd keep the child. While she had no problem with abortion for others, for her it was out of the question. She was positive that once she told Kurt about her state, he'd insist that she keep the child. As he was the father, she felt she should respect his wishes. If they really loved each other, then they would be able to make it through this.  
  
Adoption would more than likely not be an option. Considering the baby's parentage, she'd be surprised if it came out at least looking like a normal human at all. And even if it did appear normal, it would almost certainly have the x-gene, and would likely develop an ability that normal flatscans didn't possess, later on in life.  
  
She reached for her cigarettes out of habit, and paused. Smoking would probably not be a good idea. With a sigh, she put her hand back on the steering wheel. This was going to be a very, very long nine months.  
  
Five hours later and three houses later, Morgan was sitting in the parking lot of the local mall. This was the one thing she'd truly been loathing- shopping for something to wear tonight. In desperation, she picked up her cell phone, and dialed a number she never thought she'd be dialing.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey Tessa, it's Morry." She greeted her sister. "Are you busy?"  
  
There was a pause. "No, not really. Why, what's up? Is mom okay?"  
  
"Yeah she's fine." Morgan said "Actually, ah, I need a favor."  
  
She could practically hear her sister smiling over the phone. "Oh really? You need my help? Gee sis, I'm honored. What's up?"  
  
"Don't be a bitch." Morgan laughed. "You probably already know exactly what I need, considering you're the first person I thought to call."  
  
"You betcha. You need help shopping, don't you? Oh, Morgan Morgan Morgan. If it's computers, cars, or anything that goes beep, you're a wizard, but when it comes to fashion you've got no sense at all!" Theresa said. "Where are you?"  
  
"The mall."  
  
"Hmm okay." Theresa was silent for a moment. "What's the occasion?"  
  
Morgan squirmed in her seat. "A date.."  
  
"With Kurt?" Theresa said slyly.  
  
"Yes, you harpy, with Kurt." Morgan said irritably. Why did Theresa always have to do this? Morgan loved her sister, but the constant 'girl superiority' really grated on her nerves.  
  
"Okay. Where are you going?"  
  
"He wants to take me to this Italian place, in Boston. He said it's very exclusive." Morgan said.  
  
"Okay. Come pick me up. What you need you are not going to find in the mall." Theresa said. "I'll be ready when you get here."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No buts!" Theresa said. "Here! Now!"  
  
Morgan sighed. "Yes Ma'am."  
  
It took a half an hour for her to drive across town to the area in which Theresa lived. The neighborhood was full of extremely large, extremely expensive homes. They sat on their acreage far away from the street proper, surrounded by iron fences and draped with lush green lawns. Theresa had made very good money for herself as an attorney, and liked her creature comforts.  
  
Morgan had just barely stopped the car when Theresa came out of her front door and ran to the Aztec. She slid into the drivers seat and smiled broadly. "You're going to love this, I promise you." She breathed. "My friend has a little Boutique down in Greensprings, and I've already told him we're coming."  
  
"This friend wouldn't be Antony, would it?" Morgan asked, turning in the circular driveway and heading out to the road.  
  
"The one and only!" Theresa laughed, and Morgan rolled her eyes. "He's already picking things out for you. Oh, and sis, you might want to consider if you want your dress to match this coloring, or your natural coloring." She wiggled her fingers. "Or you could go somewhere in between."  
  
"That hadn't even occurred to me." Morgan said honestly. "I suppose I could alter the illusion color slightly-"  
  
"Don't bother. I'm sure that Antony can fix you up in whatever it is you need. Besides, it's been sooo long since he's seen you, he's going to have to see your natural coloring again. Oh this is gonna be so much FUN!" She clapped her hands, and Morgan sighed in resignation. Hopefully, the night would be worth it.  
  
Antony's shop was called Retro Reruns, and was fairly popular with the upper crust. He specialized in original designs that emulated such picturesque eras as the fifties, and embraced the rebellious prohibition times of the 20s. He embraced the fashion of the 1900s, molding and sculpting the base fashions into something that was gloriously retro, but very much in fashion for today's current standards. His sense of color was legendary, and his gift for matching cut and style to his customers bordered on myth. It was said, that at certain times of year, even the incredibly rich and world famous came to Antony's for that "just right" gown. More than likely, he went to them, for while Morgan knew he was a name, he wasn't a Name yet.  
  
Still, one would think that the small shop, the store front painted in a vibrant purple with a large picture window, would have been more suited to Los Angeles or New York, than it was to Greensprings Ohio. Antony had flat out refused to move his business, despite several offers. It wasn't any special attachment he had to Greensprings particularly, but that his mother was attached. And as he was attached to his mother, and her caretaker for the majority of his time, then he stayed where he was until she passed on.  
  
Morgan parked the Aztec in the small parking lot next to his building, and sighed with trepidation. The last time she'd seen Antony with any regular basis, she'd been only fourteen and had rather a crush on him. Which, of course, Theresa had delighted in teasing her with. Oh, Antony had thought it was cute and flattering, and had been ever so gentle in letting her down. He couldn't even use the excuse of homosexuality, as Antony broke the mold in that aspect as well. Not only was he decidedly not gay, he was something of a womanizer. Consequently, Morgan had never felt comfortable around him since.  
  
Now she was letting Theresa drag her back into Antony's life. And she wasn't even putting up a kicking and screaming fight. With a sigh, she shoved her hands in the pocket of her jeans, and followed Theresa reluctantly up the stairs and into the boutique.  
  
A tangle of bells jangled as they entered, and a light tenor called from the back room "Just a moment!" Morgan took the opportunity to look around at what Antony was currently offering up.  
  
All of his mannequins were relics from the past, sporting fashions appropriate for their time frame. There was a brightly colored array of dresses, sports jackets, slacks, hats, purses and shoes. It of course immediately appealed to Morgan, and she gazed longingly at a specific pair of heels while they waited for Antony to come out.  
  
There was a rattle of beaded curtain, and Antony stepped through it. Morgan forced herself not to turn and look at him the moment he appeared. Instead, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and was surprised to see that not much of him had changed. He was still darkly handsome, with thick black hair and olive skin. His Mediterranean good looks had always appealed to her, and when she was a child she'd dreamed frequently of playing Cleopatra to his Antony.  
  
"Theresa! Ah, I was wondering when you'd be hauling yourself over here for the new season." Antony beamed. He gave her a warm hug. "How's your mom doing?" he asked, with genuine concern."  
  
"Oh, she's fine." Theresa answered. "Still a bit shook up, but she's a tough old bird. I'd be surprised if she let that get her down for long." She scanned the room, and Morgan sighed as her eyes landed on her. "Morgan, come on over here would you? Say hello to your savior!"  
  
With a reluctant sigh, she tore herself away from the shoes, and went to meet him. "Hello Antony."  
  
It was with great pleasure that she saw his eyes widened, and rapidly flicker up and down her form. "Morgan? Is that you?"  
  
She laughed. "The last time, I checked, yes. I know, I know. You're surprised I haven't gone furry like the rest of my family, right?" She asked. Antony was one of the few who'd been allowed into the inner sanctum of family secrets. It may have had something to do with him having witnessed Deacon going through a particularly nasty change, but it probably had more to do with the fact that Margaret was still harboring hopes that Antony would propose to Theresa. No matter how long the two remained 'just friends,' Margaret was convinced otherwise.  
  
"No." Antony said. "No, I just," he paused. "You've just really grown up, I guess."  
  
"Well, I certainly hope so." Morgan said. "It's been about ten years you know."  
  
Antony grinned broadly. "Oh, ten years? Is that all? That's right, make me feel old." He chuckled again. "Well, in any case, you've certainly developed into a stunningly beautiful young lady." He paused. "At least, I think you have. Hard to tell when the person you're referring to is an Illusionist."  
  
Morgan snorted. "Flatterer. And I suppose your going to want to see me naked next, to make sure the dress you're about to put me in is flattering."  
  
"Well, not naked, no." he said, passing by her and heading toward the front door. He locked it, and then flipped the 'open' sign around to 'closed.' "But at least without that illusion. Let's go in the back, shall we ladies? I've got all sorts of lovely things picked out, and I'm itching to get you into something."  
  
Morgan cast one longing look back at the shoes, then followed Theresa and Antony back into his work room.  
  
The back room of Antony's shop was his workroom. It was surprisingly tidy, and well organized. Two walls were lined with shelves containing all manner of fabrics, apparently arranged first by type then by color. One wall had two curtained off alcoves I assumed were dressing rooms, and the fourth was nothing but windows. The ceiling had a large, square skylight right in the middle, and under that was a small raised dais. Dress forms were cluttered in one corner, and his line of sewing machines-Morgan couldn't even begin to fathom why he'd need more than one- were lined up next to the windowed wall.  
  
There was a short rack, with a few selections hanging from it. I wondered if he'd meant those for me. "All right," he said brusquely, "lose the illusion and let me see what I'm working with."  
  
Her eyes flickered to the windows. "Um,"  
  
Antony followed her glance, and smacked his forehead. "Oh, right. One second." He went to the end of the windows, and fiddled with a series of strings, lowering a set of blinds. They were the solid kind, long strips of fabric with slats run through them. They offered total privacy, but the thin material still allowed a lot of light to spill through.  
  
Morgan paused for a moment, before letting the illusion wisp away. It pooled into dense smoke at her feet and swirled in peach and brown before misting away completely. She heard Antony's sharp intake of breath, and turned fierce eyes to him, expecting a look of disgust.  
  
Instead, he had the look of a man who'd just found his Aphrodite. "Buon Dio, è il mio MUSE! Tale bellezza!" He muttered.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Morgan said "I beg your pardon?"  
  
But Antony was already dashing off to a large drafting table near the sewing machines. "Just stay there. No," he said, turning, and hurrying to her. "No, stay up here.. On the Dais.. yes." He tugged her up and planted her on the pedestal. "Right there. Don't move."  
  
Morgan looked at Theresa, who shrugged. "Don't ask me. I never did learn Italian."  
  
Antony grabbed his table and turned it to face her, then sat down and began scribbling furiously. For nearly a half an hour she stood there, while he ran through sheet after sheet of paper, tossing the sketches onto the floor when he was finished.  
  
Theresa retrieved one of the sketches, and raised an eyebrow, looking at Morgan speculatively. "Muse?" she repeated.  
  
Antony grunted.  
  
After another fifteen minutes, Morgan cleared her throat. "Not to be difficult, but, I do have something I need to do tonight."  
  
With a sigh, Antony finished the sketch he was working on, then began to collect the others. For several minutes, he looked them over, casting glances at Morgan, and finally selected one from the stack. "This one." He said. "This is the one I'll make for you for tonight."  
  
He retrieved a measuring tape from one of the sewing tables, and proceeded to measure every inch of her. Then, he took them both by the arm and ushered them out of the store. "Two hours." He said. "Give me two hours. Go, get some lunch or something."  
  
With that, he closed the front door, locked it, and vanished into the back room. Morgan and Theresa stood blinking on the street, Morgan's illusion safely back in place. "Well." Theresa said. "I think there's a Coldstone down the street, if you want to get something to eat."  
  
Morgan readily agreed, and soon the two sister were ensconced in a small bistro table outside the shop, licking ice cream cones and sipping root beer. They chatted about work, well, mostly Theresa's work. Occasionally Theresa would try to pry into Morgan's life, only to be deftly turned away.  
  
"Why don't you tell me anything anymore?" Theresa asked her.  
  
"I'm not sure I understand your question." Morgan said warily.  
  
"Well, you used to tell me all sorts of things, when you were a kid. But now, trying to get anything out of you is like pulling teeth. You never tell me anything. Not what precisely it is you do for a living, or who the last guy you dated was. Hell, if I even so much as mention Kurt you've got the subject changed so fast I can't remember if I actually spoke his name or not!"  
  
Morgan shifted in her seat. Should she be honest? It wouldn't due to hurt Theresa's feelings, but then hadn't Theresa done much the same as they were growing up? She decided to err on the side of honesty. "Because every time I told you something, you'd run off and tell someone else about it." She said.  
  
Theresa looked at her, stricken. "That's not true!"  
  
Morgan rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Antony is a prime example! You caught me making calf-eyes at him, forced a confession, and then told him! Oh, and let's not forget the time I snuck out to go to the movies with Ryan and Ryanne. You ran to dad so fast I was barely out of the neighborhood! Then there was the time when I told you I was thinking of breaking up with Brad, and you go running off telling him before I was even sure!" Morgan realized her volume had been steadily increasing, and took a breath to calm herself down. "I don't tell you anything, because I can't trust you not to go blabbing to someone else about it. You know, for a high-priced attorney, I should think you'd know the value of keeping your damn mouth shut."  
  
For a long moment, Theresa simply looked at her. Then, she gave a slow nod. "You're right. I did have a problem with that. I think maybe it was because I was jealous."  
  
A jolt of shock rushed through her. "Jealous? Of what?" Morgan said, incredulous.  
  
"That you always seemed to get away with things." Theresa said. "That you were so different, so special, so pretty, and I was just plain old every day Tessa."  
  
Thunderstruck, Morgan gaped at her sister opened mouthed. Her? Pretty? Never! Theresa was the one with all the good looks in the family! That traffic stopping figure, bountiful red hair, perfect face, normal coloring! How could she possibly have thought that she was plain and every day? "Tessa, you are special! And beautiful! Sweet Goddess, do you know how often I prayed that I could look like you? How much I emulated you when I was growing up? I wanted to be the one allowed to stay up late, and go to parties, and hang out with my friends! How much I just wanted to be normal?" She asked, her voice dropping down to a whisper. "Tessa, I ENVIED you when we were growing up. Didn't you know that?"  
  
Theresa, with tears streaming down her cheeks said "Oh, Morgan! I love you!"  
  
"I love you too Tessa!" Morgan pushed her chair back and hugged her sister tight, crying softly into her shoulder. "God, we're a couple of idiots, aren't we?" She said.  
  
Tessa sniffled, and pulled back, smiling down at her. "Yeah, we sure are." Then, she laughed. "Come on, let's go for a walk, before we make even more of a spectacle out of ourselves."  
  
They walked down the street, arm in arm. "Tessa, I still can't tell you what I do for a living." Morgan said tentatively.  
  
"It's something illegal, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah." Morgan confessed. "And the less you know about it, the better. Just know that if I ever get busted, it's you I'm going to call."  
  
"I think I can live with that." She laughed.  
  
Morgan sighed, at war with herself. For years, she'd been misjudging Theresa. She felt a need to make up for it, but had no major secrets that she was willing to share, save one.  
  
"Alright sis." Morgan said. "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to swear, and I mean swear, that you won't tell a soul until I'm ready for them to all know."  
  
Theresa stopped, and looked at Morgan seriously. "I promise." She said solemnly.  
  
Morgan took a deep breath, and said "I'm pregnant."  
  
Dumbstruck, Theresa said "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Pregnant." Morgan repeated. "Me." She pointed to her belly.  
  
For a moment, Theresa's mouth worked, but no sound came out. Then, she said "Do Mom and Dad know?"  
  
"I just found out myself last night." Morgan sighed. "I've been debating what to do about it for a week now, when I first suspected it."  
  
"What have you decided?" Theresa asked, after a long moment of silence.  
  
"Well," Morgan said thoughtfully, "I think I'm going to keep it."  
  
"Hmm." Theresa said. She took Morgan's arm again, and began leading her back to Antony's store. "Well," she said finally. "I wonder what Kurt will say." 


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt fidgeted nervously, perching on the edge of his seat, and straightening his color. From the pilot's seat, Ororo Monroe smiled at him encouragingly. "Kurt, relax." She said gently.  
  
"I'm trying." He said plaintively. "But I feel as if my tail is in knots."  
  
"You'll be fine. Just be your usual, charming self." She said.  
  
It's not me I'm worried about, Kurt thought. What if all I felt for her was an illusion? What if I am overcome by those urges again? What if I feel nothing for her at all beyond a simple friendship? What if she is in love with me, and I am in love with her? Truly?  
  
There was a gentle bump as the Blackbird touched down, in the cover of a thick fog bank. They'd landed in a park just a block away from where Morgan was staying now, and Kurt was going to walk the distance to pick her up. He made a careful check to make sure that his image inducer was on and functioning properly, and then grinned at Ororo. "Wish me luck!"  
  
"Good luck!" She said.  
  
Kurt teleported out of the Blackbird, and began to stroll down the street. He felt a little foolish wandering about in his black suit, but it seemed no one was really out and about to point fingers at him. A quick glance at his watch showed he had only five minutes to reach Morgan's home at the end of the block, so he hastened his step.  
  
The house had, at one time, been a rather lovely Victorian home. Over the many years it had stood, the lovely detailed work had at some point been removed, and the whole thing had been covered in white siding. The porch, which nearly encircled the entire house, had a definate lean on the right side, dropping slighty to the crazily cracked driveway. Still, the trim of the house was neatly painted, the windows in good repair and the curtains that hung in them clean and fresh looking. It was old, and looked it, but well loved. Even from the sidewalk, one could feel the love and general good will put off by the residents inside, and it made the house shine out against the shoddiness of the rest of the neighborhood.  
  
Kurt took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders, walking up the steps and to the front door. He raised his hand, and knocked gently.  
  
Beyond the doorway he could hear footsteps, and the door opened. Morgan's father stood in the doorway, surprise and speculation in his expression. "Why, hello Kurt. What brings you by tonight?"  
  
Taken aback, Kurt said "Ah, Morgan and I have a date."  
  
Mr. Flannigan crossed his arms across his chest. "Oh, you do, do you? And tell me Kurt, do you have any idea of what my baby girl has been going through lately? She's miserable over you, I'll have you know, and making the rest of us miserable to boot. You do remember what I told you I'd do if you hurt her-"  
  
"Daddy!" Kurt heard Morgan's shocked voice coming from inside. "Will you please stop it! I'm fine!"  
  
"Morgan honey, I-"  
  
"No!" a pair of hands reached out and grabbed Mr. Flannigan's arms, and he was abruptly pulled out of Kurt's line of sight. He could hear Morgan, her voice dropped into a whisper he was sure she thought he couldn't hear, continuing. "Dad, I swear to god, if you ruin this for me, I'll make your life even more miserable than it already is! What's between Kurt and I is between Kurt and I and, Goddess willing, we will work all of that crap out tonight. So if you don't mind, I would greatly appreciate it if you stayed out of my business!" He heard a footstep, and then something that sounded distinctly like a kiss. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to hopefully have myself a good time."  
  
When Morgan stepped into view, Kurt felt as if time had stopped for one breathless moment. It was not the familiar reaction of his body that caught him, but the stunning vision of her beauty as she settled the black satin stole around her shoulders. The wild hair that he had run his fingers through was neatly tamed, twisted up in the back to hold a small nest of curls at the top, as well as two lovely curls that framed her face and accentuated her high cheekbones and the largeness of her eyes. It exposed the expanse of her creamy neck, covered now by an illusion so that it resembled nothing more than fair skin. Delicate silver drop earrings, graced her ears, and she wore a matching necklace with an amythyst pendant. The deep purple gown she wore was sleeveless, with a high empire waist defined not only by cut, but by a black matte ribbon that encircled her body just under the bust. From there, it hugged her to the hips where it suddenly flared out in an a-line skirt that ended just below her knees. A thin silver bangle graced her right wrist, and her left hand clutched a small black purse. Kurt was willing to bet she was wearing real silk stockings, and her feet were encased in three inch, black patent leather heels. They had a rounded toe, and a cup for heal with an ankle strap, but left the rest of the foot exposed.  
  
She smiled at him, shy and uncertain. "Hello Kurt."  
  
It took him three tries to respond. "Morgan-"he paused, then took her hand in his and bent low over it, turning her palm up and laying a gentle kiss upon it. "you look absolutely stunning."  
  
He knew from the way her chin dropped, and titled to the left that she was blushing. Due to the illusion, the rosey flush he was familiar with did not color her cheeks at all. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage sir." She said softly. "While I see this ghostly image of you is surely very handsome, I'm sure he has nothing on your devilishly debonair and suave natural self."  
  
Kurt laughed, feeling some of his tension and awkwardness leak away. "Oh, believe me, I look as sorry a sight as usual. Still, if you are willing to escort me to dinner, it would be my pleasure to see if I could accommodate your desires afterwards. Unfair, too, that you should point out I am not exactly myself, when you are not exactly yours. "  
  
Morgan fluttered her eyelashes and said "Perhaps after dinner, both of us may find ourselves in a position where that particular dissatisfaction may be alleviated."  
  
Kurt offered her his arm, and she slipped her arm through his. He felt his breath quicken, his heart beat a little faster, but nothing like the urges that overcame him before. Now, it was as if she were simply an extremely attractive woman, in whom he had a romantic interest. A relief, to be sure.  
  
They walked to the Blackbird, and from there Ororo flew them to the outskirts of Boston. There was a car waiting there already, and Kurt opened the door for Morgan, allowing her to get herself arranged before closing the door and heading to the drivers seat.  
  
There was a brief, awkward silence as Kurt started the car and pulled the car out onto the road. Then, Morgan reached her hand out, and placed it gently atop his on the gear shift. "I've missed you," she said softly.  
  
"I've missed you too." Kurt said, and was pleased to find that was indeed true. "I'm sorry I've been such a," he paused, "um,"  
  
"Goon?" Morgan supplied, and Kurt laughed.  
  
"Ja. A goon. I feel that there are a few things that we need to discuss before the relationship progresses any further." He said, looking at her from the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction.  
  
"I couldn't agree more." She said, much to his relief. "I'm just glad that you're actually ready to talk about this."  
  
"I had a great deal of difficulty trying to determine how exactly it was I felt. And to be honest, I was a bit frightened." He confessed. "I am usually not one to-"he paused "rush into anything intensely physical." He finished lamely.  
  
"You're catholic, and not you're feeling guilty about the sex?" He could hear the edge in her voice.  
  
"Yes and no." Kurt said honestly, and her hand moved away from his. "Please, Morgan, I wish to explain this to you before you say anything." She waved a hand at him, irritated. Even when she was angry, he noted, she was still beautiful. Abruptly, he turned his eyes back to the road. "It isn't that I regret the physical act," he said, "spiritually, it wasn't the right thing to do. I accept this, have confessed it and been absolved of the sin. No, what bothers me, is that it seemed I- Morgan, until tonight I've had to fight with myself not to, ah, be all over you."  
  
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean." She said cautiously.  
  
"From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I wanted you, in a rather carnal way." Kurt said. "I thought, at first, that maybe it was a latent gfit you had. That it was you that was the source of my nearly overwhelming attraction. But when I saw several men in your presence were not affected, I knew that it was something with me. Do you remember, when you came onto the roof to find me?" He looked at her, and she nodded. "I didn't port out because I was not used to being teased, no quite the contrary as a matter of fact. I 'ported out, because if I hadn't, then I would have taken you right there, regardless as to whether or not you consented."  
  
It was the first time he'd spoken that particular tidbit out aloud to anyone. Best to press on, and not think about it. "That scared me so much, that I simply removed myself from the temptation. Even then, I had to fight not to go back to you. I resisted you for as long as I could, but then, when I woke up, and you were in my arms-"he shook his head. "I couldn't resist any longer."  
  
"I see." Morgan said.  
  
"Because of this, I couldn't be sure if I actually cared for you as anything other than a friend." Kurt plowed on. "A very good friend, whom you have not met, advised me that the best way to find out if in fact I would still be suffering from that affliction, and if we could progress beyond that, then maybe I should take you out on a date."  
  
"Oh." She was silent for a long moment, and then she said "So, how do you feel now?"  
  
"Well, I have gotten to know you very well over the phone, the last few times we've talked." Kurt said, and then he smiled. "In fact, I'm afraid I'd developed rather a crush on you, because of a few shared interests. I was extremely nervous about physically laying eyes on you, because I was afraid that I would again have that reaction to you. Much to my relief, I did not."  
  
"So, what are you trying to say Wagner?" Morgan asked. To his relief, she didn't sound upset, or angry. In fact, her tone was downright playful.  
  
"Well," he said, "I feel that tonight, I am having dinner with the loveliest woman in the world. I am truly blessed, and if I am extremely lucky she will consent to go dancing with me afterwards. That is, if she is not to upset with me for being a goon."  
  
Morgan, much to his delight, laughed. "I don't know if I entirely believe you, Kurt." She said. "But, I do believe that you needed time, and that you were wrestling with something spiritually. While my particular faith could care less about sex, who you have it with, when you do it, or why, yours is rather rigid. I understand why that would be an issue for you."  
  
"Ja, well hopefully it's something that I've finally gotten resolved." He said. "Ah, here we are." He pulled the car neatly in front of an old, brick building and slid out of the drivers seat. A Valet opened the passenger door, and helped Morgan to step out of the vehicle. Kurt gave her a dashing smile, and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"  
  
"Charmer." Morgan smiled affectionately at him, and took his arm. "Lead on, Don Juan."  
  
Dinner was, in Kurt's mind, perfection. It seemed that they not only shared similar tastes in books and music, she also had a passion for movies- especially old ones-that Kurt found mirrored in himself. He found himself engrossed in a fairly in depth conversation about Errol Flynn, and the impact that performer had on future generations.  
  
"Take Johnny Depp for example," Morgan said, "you can't say that his performance in Pirates of the Carribean was not influenced in some way by Errol Flynn."  
  
Kurt shook his head. "I haven't seen that yet, so I honestly couldn't say."  
  
Morgan looked at him, aghast "You're joking me! You? The epitome of the swashbuckling pirate?"  
  
Kurt laughed. "Well, it's true that I have swashed many a buckle in my life, I simply haven't had the time to watch it."  
  
"Oh well we're just going to have to solve that then. You're going to come over to my house tomorrow and watch it." Morgan said.  
  
"I am?" Kurt smiled, and she giggled. "Well, what will your father say about that?"  
  
Morgan shrugged. "If he knows what's good for him, he'll keep his mouth shut." She said. "I am sorry about him going off like that, he's just, well, overprotective I guess."  
  
"Well," Kurt said, "he is your father. I would imagine they are rather possessive of their daughters."  
  
"Was your mother possessive of you Kurt?" Morgan asked, He blinked, startled.  
  
"Ah, I never new my mother." Kurt said. "I am an orphan."  
  
He could see shock warring with embarassment on her face. "Oh, Kurt I'm sorry. I- I didn't know-"  
  
"Nein, Nein, don't worry." He said. "I am an orphan. Well, at least, I was raised as such. I was found by circus folk, who took me in and raised me as one of their own. Well, for the most part. As much as anyone could accept me, being what I am."  
  
"So you have no family?" Morgan asked.  
  
"I know who my mother is now." Kurt said. "I choose not to associate with her."  
  
"Because she abandoned you?" Morgan asked.  
  
"That, and other things." Then, he asked her "What was it like growing up in such a large family?"  
  
Morgan laughed. "Oh, chaos! I don't know how my parents did it. Even with most of us grown and gone, the ones that are left are royal handfuls. I'm surprised we don't get more phone calls from Xavier's about the hell they are raising there."  
  
"They have their moments." Kurt grinned. "But it's nothing we can't straighten out. Trust me, we have our share of jokesters. Deena and Riley are no worse than Bobby. If we can survive him, then we can definitely survive them."  
  
"Well, I remember when I was a kid, it seemed so cool to have so many siblings." Morgan said. "No matter what kind of trouble I was in, I knew that there were certain of my older siblings I could rely on to bail me out. Deacon, for instance. He's the oldest, wow, he's going to be thirty this year.." she paused. "I'm going to have to get him something really good. Anyhow, he's always felt obligated to take care of the rest of us, especially me for some reason. Now me, I always felt like I should be taken care of Braden. He's only younger than me by a year, and because of his chosen profession, he used to take a lot of flack, even from our brothers."  
  
"Oh?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "What does he do?"  
  
"He's a choreographer."  
  
"Ah yes, I can see how that would be something a person could tease him about." Kurt said. "Not unlike my being an acrobat."  
  
"Oh, see, now that's something you can talk about all day." Morgan said, and a dreamy look came over her face. "What was it like, working in a circus?"  
  
They talked for what seemed like hours, sharing stories of their very different childhoods. Kurt was surprised to find the similarities between her large family, and his circus one. Both seemed chaotic, both seemed full of angst and high emotion, and both embraced just about anything that came their way.  
  
When the check came, he readily paid it, and the two were off for dancing. Morgan was clearly excited, she'd never been dancing before. While he knew she was uncertain as to how she would do, her willingness to throw herself into it pleased him, and he was looking forward to teaching her what he knew. It was definitely going to be a great way to end the evening.

* * *

Morgan's feet, legs, and lower back still ached from the hours she'd spent dancing with Kurt.  
  
It was worth every ache, pain, and twinge she was felt .  
  
She laid in bed, reliving the night in every last wonderful detail as she stared at the shadowed ceiling above her bed. First, there'd been dinner. Then dancing enough that it had left her breathless. The feel of Kurt's body against hers, the smell of him, the strength of his arms, had all worked together to get her fairly worked up. Combine that with his skill on the dance floor, and his absolute grace, well, she'd been putty in his hands, to say the very least.  
  
Then, he'd flown her home, and walked her back to her front door, the whole time playing the perfect gentleman. The kiss that she'd been anticipating the whole night, was a simple brush of his lips against her cheek. Then, he'd ushered her into her house, and as she watched stood on her porch for a moment. A foolish grin plastered to his face, wonder in his eyes, and a definate bounce in his step as he'd left.  
  
The whole thing had left her extremely frustrated, to say the least. It was perfectly delicious, and she was greatly looking forward to see him that day. What she wasn't looking forward too, was telling him of his child.  
  
Her hand drifted to her belly, and rubbed small circles over it. After last night, she could easily see herself developing a long term relationship with Kurt. Just the two of them, could have quite a few good times together. Even the philosophical and theological differences added to the relationship, assuring they would definitely have things to talk about as they got older.  
  
But introducing a child into the mix, into the beginnings of what could be the best, last relationship of her life, might have a detrimental affect. What if Kurt blamed her? What if he insisted that she get rid of the child or, far more likely, that she keep it? What if, goddess forbid, he insisted on marriage? What kind of affect would that have on their budding relationship? Would it strengthen it, or harbor resentment on one or both sides?  
  
Then there were the biological concerns. There was no question in her mind that the child would be born a mutant. Would she even be able to carry it to term? What if it was severely deformed? So much so, that it might not be able to survive once it was born anyway? And what was she to do for a physician? Chances are, the mutations would be visible, even as a fetus. Like a tail, for example. She couldn't exactly wander from office to office asking the doctors if they were tolerant of mutants.  
  
She yawned, and stretched. Either way, she had to tell Kurt. Tomorrow. Thinking about it tonight would do no good. With a sigh, she rolled onto her side and cuddled into her pillow. It didn't take long for sleep to claim her.  
  
She dreamed.


	5. Chapter 5

She was hot, sweating, the air felt thick. It was difficult for her to get a breath. Crouched in the darkness, Morgan gasped, trying to draw hot, near burning air into lungs that already felt as if they were on fire. As she knelt, gasping, a dim light seemed to grow around her, and as it grew, so did the heat, until she could see a distant ring of flames encircling her.  
  
Morgan struggled to her feet, looking for some break in the flames. As she watched, they seemed to grow larger, the circle smaller as they encroached upon her. Now she could make out figures in the flames. Horrible, twisted forms that danced and capered and cajoled in a sort of macabre ritual of which she was a part. Over the roar of the flames, she could hear their voices raised, a howling chorus that chilled her to the bone as they called out to something unseen.  
  
Laughter, deep, rolling, an altogether evil rolled over her, and she fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the earth in submission. She was near debasing herself, almost flattening herself onto the earth as it shook and trembled. What the hell was going on? She tried to make her body move, but it stayed exactly where it was, flat on the ground, as some great evil drew nearer.  
  
She sensed something standing over her, and heard that same deep, terrifying voice muttered "Rise, my servant."  
  
Morgan's eyes traveled up, and up and up, her mind unable to put together the horrible mishmash of pieces and parts that constructed the creature before her. It felt as if her heart had stilled in her chest. She sucked in a might, burning breath, and screamed.  
  
Everything went black.  
  
When she could see again, it was to see a warm, golden light filling her vision. She was nestled in something soft, comforting, and warm. A feeling of utter safety seemed to permeate her being, of well being and peace. Carefully, she looked around.  
  
The room was rather barren of anything, save the bed that she laid upon, and a single chair. In that chair, sat a man. He was clothed all in white, his clothes of an archaic style and design. Distantly it reminded her of something out of a fairy tale book. His hair was loose and flowing, a pure white that matched his skin. It cascaded loose and unbound down to the very floor. Two blue, glowing eyes were set in a delicate face, and there was the sweep of delicately pointed ears poking out of his hair. Briefly, she thought she saw something shimmer behind him.  
  
He was sitting cross-legged in the chair, one knee over the other, with his hands clasped and resting in his lap. It was a very easy looking position. His face was ageless, handsome, and distantly familiar.  
  
"Hello Morrigan," he said, and his voice rang like chimes. "that wasn't a pleasant dream you were having, was it?"  
  
"Where am I?" Morgan asked, sitting up and looking around.  
  
"Oh, you're still dreaming." The man said. "But don't worry. I promise this dream will be much less disturbing than that other one."  
  
Morgan swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Larodrill." He said. Then, he paused expectantly.  
  
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Morgan asked.  
  
He looked hurt, stricken, raising a fine-boned hand to his breast. "You mean your mother never spoke of me?"  
  
She shook her head, confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
Larodrill shook his head, and rose, Once again, she saw something shimmery behind him, and with a start realized it was wings. Long, slender, dragon- fly like wings. He fluttered them in a blur, causing a slight breeze. It reminded her distantly of warm, spring days, of meadows, and the wild places.  
  
"I can not believe she would not mention me," Larodrill bemoaned. "Is she so ashamed of what she is?"  
  
Morgan, frustrated, rose to her feet. "Look, either you start explaining what's going on, or I'm going to get very, very angry."  
  
Larodrill raised an elegant eyebrow at her. "Are you threatening me? I believe you are!" He clapped his hands together. "Oh, simply delightful! Perhaps there is some hope for this branch of the family after all. I'll tell you what, Mortal child. If you can answer me a riddle, then I'll answer you whatever questions you may have for me."  
  
"You've got to be joking!" Morgan exclaimed.  
  
"It's no joke, child. Answer me a riddle, and I'll answer every question you may have." Larodrill laughed. "It's a simple riddle, I promise."  
  
"What if I refuse to answer?" Morgan asked.  
  
Larodrill suddenly grew very still. It was an eerie stillness, as if he'd suddenly become a lifeless statue. Not a hair moved, his chest didn't rise and fall. He simply stood there, staring at her. Morgan felt herself grow cold and uneasy. "Then you will not wake."  
  
"Tell me your riddle." She said, finally.  
  
Suddenly he lurched back to life. His wings fluttered once more, and a gentle hum accompanied them. "excellent! Here is your riddle. Only one color, not one size. Stuck at the bottom, easily flies. Present in sun, not in rain. Causing no harm, feeling no pain. What am I?"  
  
Morgan shook her head. "I have no idea."  
  
Larodrill smiled indulgently. "I'll give you a day to find the answer."  
  
"What do you mean, you'll give me a day to-"  
  
"Morgan? Are you awake?" Theresa's voice pervaded her sleep fogged mind. Morgan yawned, and stretched, her brain buzzing slightly. She dreamt of- something. It seemed to slip away from her, and the more she tried to remember, the less she could recall.  
  
"Hmmph?" She said sleepily. "Tessa? Z'matter?"  
  
Theresa's head poked through the door. "Oh damn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."  
  
Morgan stretched again, and slowly sat up, rubbing one of her eyes. "S'okay. S'mthing wrong?"  
  
"No, no I just wanted to see how last night went." Despite herself, Morgan felt a smile spread across her face, and Theresa laughed. "Ooooh that good huh? Tell me everything!"  
  
Morgan beckoned her sister closer, and Theresa shut the door, perching on the foot of her bed. "It was fantastic." She gushed. "We went out to dinner, and dancing, and, oh god Theresa it was sheer perfection. We have so much in common! This is the first time either of us have really been able to sit down and talk to each other face to face, and we both learned so much. I mean, I knew a lot about him before, but it was sort of like I tumbled into bed without really knowing him you know? And he felt the same way. It was really, really good for us to be able to sit down and talk."  
  
"Mm hmm. So how far did you let him get this time?" Theresa asked, and Morgan rolled her eyes.  
  
"Well, I got a very chaste kiss on the cheek, but I tell you, from the way that man dances," she closed her eyes and shivered with delight. "it's almost like sex with your clothes on. Simply amazing!"  
  
"I'm jealous!" Theresa declared. Then, she sobered. "Did you tell him?"  
  
"I was going to, but I chickened out. We were both having such a good time, I didn't want to ruin it. He's coming over here tonight, and I'm going to tell him then."  
  
Theresa raised an eyebrow. "Coming over here? Whyfore?"  
  
"I'm going to make him watch Pirates of the Carribean." Morgan said. "We'll just veg in front of the TV, and eat popcorn, and it'll be good."  
  
"And what are you going to do with Mom and Dad?" Theresa asked.  
  
"Bribe them to go out to dinner and a movie?" Morgan laughed. "Nothing at all. It's mom's Bingo night down at the church, and dad's going out with some of his old cop buddies. Moriah's working down in the lab all night, so it'll just be me, him, and the big screen."  
  
Theresa said "So, I guess I better not be thinking of crashing that, hmm?"  
  
Morgan, horrified, threw a pillow at her sister.  
  
A tentative knock came at the door, and Morgan almost ran to the door. At that last moment, she paused, taking a deep breath and surveying her attire to make sure everything was in place. Not that it was all that complex. Bare feet with blue jeans and a purple T-shirt. Still, she wanted to look her best.  
  
With a smile, she opened the door. Kurt had his hand raised to knock a second time, and hastily lowered it when the door open. His other arm was safely concealed behind his back. Morgan's smile grew even more broad. "Why, Mr. Wagner. What a pleasant surprise."  
  
"Gutenabend, mein Schatz." Kurt smiled, "I trust you are well this lovely evening?"  
  
"Ja danke für das Bitten. Nicht kommen Sie herein?" Morgan smiled as his eyebrows went up.  
  
"Yes, thank you." He said. "Oh, ah, these are for you." From behind his back he produced three roses, one white, one yellow, and one red.  
  
Morgan blushed, and took them from him, "Oh Kurt, they're lovely." She stepped aside to allow him entry, then closed the door. "I'll just go put these in some water. Please, feel free to make yourself at home. All the windows are blocked so no one will be able to peek in if you want to shut your inducer off."  
  
"Ja, thank you Morgan." Kurt said. Morgan went into the kitchen and found a narrow vase. In a few moments, she had the roses nipped, watered, and ready. She brought them back out into the living room, and set them down on the corner of the coffee table. Kurt, holographic image gone, was busy exploring the living room. At the moment, he'd spotted a tapestry documenting Margaret's family tree for ten generations. He was peering at it intently, his tail swishing idly. "Hmm." He said. "What?" Morgan asked, and went over to him to see what he was looking at. When she stepped beside him, his tail briefly coiled around her calf in greeting before flitting off to explore a potted fern. She was beginning to believe the thing had a mind of it's own.  
  
"This," Kurt said. "Here is your mother, ja?" he pointed at Margaret's name.  
  
"Right."  
  
"Well, here are her grandparents, and their parents, and their parents, and so on, ja? But look here. Do you see, where the tree branches out here? There is a question mark." He tapped one thick finger on something Morgan never noticed before.  
  
The beginning of the tree started with her many times great grandparents. They themselves had over seventeen children. And those children in turn had several of their own. She knew that her mother's line ran straight into that gaggle of children. So she studied the central area, and was shocked to see that next to grandma Gertrude's name there was the name Angus, a Scottish name if she ever saw one, and another line, connecting to a question mark. All three lines came together, and pointed to a single child from which she was descended.  
  
"There seems to be some question of your many times great grandfather's birth." Kurt said. "Do you know the story behind it?"  
  
"No." Morgan said thoughtfully. "I don't. I wonder if mom does though."  
  
"Perhaps you should ask her, ja?"  
  
"Ja." Morgan felt a chill run down her spine. She gave herself a shake, and then slipped her hand into Kurt's. "Come on, let's go watch the movie. I've got the DVD all ready, popcorn, and I can grab us something to drink from the fridge."  
  
Not more than a half an hour later, they were cuddled together on the couch, munching on popcorn from the bowl that Kurt was holding in his lap. Kurt watched the movie with rapt attention, sometimes forgetting the popcorn that was sitting on his lap. Eventually, he set the bowl aside entirely and simply pulled Morgan closer. Happily, she snuggled against him and sighed.  
  
When the movie was over, they watched a few of the extra features, then discussed it in great detail. While Kurt had found the story to be enjoyable, he'd believed that the special affects and the wire work could have been done without. Morgan disagreed, thinking that it gave the movie an edge it might not have otherwise had. The only thing they were unanimous upon, was that Johnny Depp's performance was excellent.  
  
Morgan glanced at the clock. It was 9:30 and she new her mother would be home soon. If she was going to tell Kurt tonight, it was going to have to be now. A sudden tangle of emotions settled in the pit of her stomach, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.  
  
"Morgan? Is something wrong?" Kurt asked. She sighed, and untangled herself from his warm embrace, settling on the other end of the couch.  
  
"Yes. No. I don't know." She said, frustrated. "Kurt, there's something I have to tell you."  
  
Solemnly, he nodded. "You can tell me anything Morgan." He took her hand in his, and held it gently.  
  
Morgan sighed, and rose, withdrawing her hands from him. It was not that she wanted the support, quite the contrary in fact, but more that she did not want to see his reaction when she told him. She was absolutely terrified, and she felt the most distance between her and him physically, the better.  
  
"Something's happened, that I didn't think could ever happen to me." She said softly, and turned away from him. Crossing her arms, she hugged herself. "Honestly, I never expected it, and I certainly never wanted it. But now that it's here, I can't imagine doing anything else but finishing it."  
  
The couch squeaked as Kurt shifted. "Morgan, please, tell me what is troubling you."  
  
"I wouldn't have even brought it up Kurt, but it's something that affects you too. From this moment on, our lives are never ever going to be the same." She said. Then, she took a deep breath.  
  
"I'm pregnant."

* * *

Thanks everyone for reading along with me so far. I promise you, a whole lot of things about Morgan are going to start making sense over the next few chapters. You're going to have to bear with me, cause it's going to seem like I'm delving into the realm of Mary-Sueish-ness again, but trust me, it's not at all what you're expecting.  
  
Hopefully I'll have another chapter up by the end of the week, and I'm sorry this one is so short, but I didn't want to overload it with extraneous detail, and I DEFINITELY wanted to end with a cliffhanger (Because, well, it's me and, frankly, I'm evil.) 


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt stared at Morgan, shocked. Pregnant? Morgan? It couldn't be! Stupidly, he sat there blinking, mind racing as he contemplated the irrevocable impact this would have on their lives. A father! It was something that he'd never expected to find in his own life, never thought he would have the chance of being. An opportunity to raise a child, his child. It was amazing. But was he ready for it? More over, was Morgan? Did she even intend on keeping the child? That thought made his blood run cold. It was not only her decision, and if she tried to make it so, he would fight her on it. The idea pained him, but he would not be able to idly stand by while she destroyed their child.  
  
"Kurt, say something." Morgan said, her voice cracking with emotion. She stood with her back to him, and he could see that she was shaking slightly.  
  
With a jumble of emotions tangling up his mind, Kurt said "I'm not sure what to say."  
  
Morgan turned to him, and he saw tears sliding down her cheeks. "Ach, Liebe, please. Do not cry." He rose, and took a step toward her.  
  
She took a step back from him, and held up a hand to fend him off. "Kurt, please. I need to know how you feel about this."  
  
He sighed, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Ja. How I feel. Well," he paused, thinking. "I've got mixed feelings. I am shocked, certainly. I believe I need more time to contemplate this."  
  
Silently, she regarded him for a moment, and then nodded, scrubbing at her eyes. "I suppose that's fair. It's all I've been able to think about for the past two days."  
  
"How long have you known?" Kurt asked gently.  
  
"I found out the night before last." She confessed. "I would have said something last night, but, I was having such a good time, I didn't want to ruin our date. I couldn't let another day go by without telling you though."  
  
While he didn't like it, he certainly couldn't argue with the when of being told. "Ja. I understand. Have you, um." He paused. "What have you decided to do?"  
  
Morgan shrugged. "I haven't really." She said. "Most of it depends on you. There's only one thing I'm sure about, and that is if possible, and Goddess willing, I will carry it to term. I couldn't bear the thought of getting rid of it."  
  
Kurt released an inward sigh of relief. "And after it is born?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know." She said. "I guess, if it's obviously a mutant, then either I'll keep it, or I'll find someone else who wants a child that can't have one."  
  
Kurt took another step towards her, and was pleased when she didn't move away. "How do you feel about me, Schatz?"  
  
Morgan looked at him sharply. "I don't blame you, if that's what you're trying to ask me. It takes two to make a child, and it would be unfair of me to place the blame solely on you. No, I blame statistics."  
  
"Statistics?" he took another step, and was nearly within arms length.  
  
"I was on the pill." She said. "So, either it stopped working, or you've got some amazing sperm."  
  
Despite himself, he laughed. Taking the final step, he pulled her unresisting into his arms, and held her. "I will be there for you." He said softly, murmuring into her hair. "I will be there for you, and for our baby. You are right. Things will change. But I do not believe it will change how we feel about each other. I care for you very, very much Morgan."  
  
"But you don't love me?" She asked softly, and he pulled away, catching her eyes with his and looking deeply into them.  
  
"Can you honestly, right this minute and with no doubts, say that you love me?" He asked.  
  
She sniffled. "Honestly? No. I do care for you a great deal, but I can't say one hundred percent for sure it's love."  
  
"Well, neither can I." Kurt said. "That's not a bad thing, or a good thing. It just is."  
  
Morgan nodded, then wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh, Kurt. I don't know why I was so afraid of telling you. I guess, I thought you'd be angry, or you'd insist that I keep it without asking me what I wanted to do, or you'd want to get married, or something."  
  
Kurt paused. Married? That hadn't even occurred to him! It was absolutely, positively the right thing to do. He knew it, deep down inside, that if he wanted to do the right thing, that he should ask Morgan to marry him. However, it sounded as if that was the last thing that Morgan wanted.  
  
Still, it wasn't as if he didn't have time to sway her around to his line of thinking. At the very least, they had four months, and that was if the child was born extremely premature. In which case, it would be lucky if the baby survived at all.  
  
"Have you gone to a doktor yet?" he asked, and she shook her head.  
  
"No. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be able to just go to any old doctor for this." She said. "I mean, between the two of us..." she trailed off.  
  
"Ja, it's what I was thinking. Well, perhaps you could come and stay with me? Well, not with me, but at Xavier's?" he asked tentatively. "We have a doktor on staff you know, and there would be plenty of things for you to do there. It is a school after all."  
  
"I hadn't really thought about. I don't know if that's necessarily a good idea?"  
  
"Why not?" He asked. "There is a doktor there, to be sure. Most of your needs will be seen too, room and board certainly. Then, of course, there's me," he gave her his most devilish smile. "What more could a girl want?"  
  
Finally, a smile cracked on her face, and she giggled. "Let me think about it, okay?" She said, and he nodded.  
  
"Of course." He said. Then, he bent, and kissed her softly. Hesitantly, she kissed him back. It sent tingles through him, and his tail coiled around her waist, drawing her closer. She shivered against him, and her hands slid up into the tangle of his hair, drawing him down for another kiss.  
  
A key jangled in the lock, and abruptly, she sprang away from him, flushing crimson. Kurt felt his own cheeks coloring, and coughed. The door opened, and Margaret stepped into the house. "Morgan? Oh, there you are." She said. "Oh," her eyes widened. "why, hello Kurt! I had no idea you were coming over tonight! Oh dear, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."  
  
"No!" Morgan said hastily. "No, not at all. We were just, ah-"  
  
"Watching a movie." Kurt said. "Pirates of the Caribbean. Have you seen it?"  
  
Margaret laughed. "Oh yes, only about a thousand times. It's Morgan's favorite movie you know." She set her purse down on an end table near the door, and heaved a heavy sigh. "Oh, I'm tired. I swear, Bingo night gets more and more tiring as the years go on."  
  
"Oh, do you play Bingo?" Kurt asked.  
  
Margaret dropped into a chair and kicked off her shoes, stretching her legs out in front of her. "No. But I help keep it organized down at the church. All those sweet old ladies can get really mean tempered sometimes. It's my job to make sure they've got everything they need and keep them happy."  
  
"It's one of many things she does for her church." Morgan said. She sank down into the sofa, and Kurt sat next to her, carefully keeping space between them. "Mom is really active with the church."  
  
"Ja? I do some work for the church myself." He said conversationally.  
  
"Another one?" Kurt turned to see Morgan's father entering from the kitchen. Had he been there the whole time?  
  
"Your home early dear." Margaret said. "Everything okay?"  
  
"Larry's sick, and Ernie's being his normal whiney self. Most of the other guys are on vacation." He answered. "So Kurt, what brings you here."  
  
"Ed, don't be hostile." Margaret chided. "The boy's just here to see Morgan."  
  
Ed shrugged. "Hmph."  
  
Morgan glanced at Kurt, and then took a deep breath. Was she about to do what he thought she was about to do?  
  
"Mom, dad, there's something I, well, we, need to tell you." She said.  
  
"Oh? What's that dear?" Margaret asked.  
  
Deliberately, Morgan took Kurt's hand in hers, and shifted a bit closer to him. "Well, there's no easy way to say this so I'll just say it." She muttered. "I'm pregnant."  
  
There was a moment of agonized silence, and then Ed turned to his wife. "Honey, I'll be right back." He said calmly. "I'm going to go get my gun."  
  
Kurt's hand tightened on Morgan's in alarm as Ed turned and headed for the stairs.  
  
"You get back here mister!" Margaret snapped. "You will do nothing of the kind." Ed sighed, and turned to his wife, then looked at Kurt. It was not a friendly look. "Morgan dear, are you sure?" she asked.  
  
"Yes." Morgan said. "I'm positive. You should know, I'm going to keep it."  
  
"Well of course you are!" Margaret said, clearly shocked that anything else might have occurred to her daughter. "Oh dear. It's not the most ideal situation is it?" She continued. "You two better get married soon then. There's nothing more unattractive than a pregnant bride."  
  
"Married?" Morgan said. "No, mom, I'm not ready-"  
  
"If you're ready to have a baby, then you're ready to get married." Ed said roughly. "Kurt, haven't you asked her yet?"  
  
Kurt spread his hands helplessly. "It did not seem like a good time to bring it up." He answered, and Morgan rounded on him. He held up both hands to fend her off. "You did not seem to want to get married now, so I thought I wouldn't bring it up until you were ready to discuss it!"  
  
"Ready to discuss-"She rose, shaking. "Well, any thoughts you were entertaining about bringing me around, you can just forget, Mr. Wagner." She hissed, and Kurt flinched. "And you two! How DARE you insinuate that me having this child under my terms, even if those terms don't include a wedding, are wrong! There is absolutely nothing wrong with not being married! I WILL not let some upstart, one way thinking religion that I don't even practice dictate to me what I can and can not do with my life!" Kurt winced. She was near yelling now, and his ears ached dully from the volume. "You!" She turned, and jabbed a finger at him. "You can just forget about me coming to live at Xavier's! There's absolutely no way that's going to happen now! And you two! Don't expect me to be here when you wake up in the morning, because I can garun-God-damn-tee that I won't be!" With that last furious statement, she fled the living room and up the stairs, slamming a door in the process.  
  
"I think you should go now, Kurt honey." Margaret said. She rose, and went to him, taking his hands and urging him up. "She'll come around, she's just upset. She knows what the right thing to do is, I'm sure of it. You just go home, and I'll take care of her."  
  
"But," Kurt said, and he took a step in the direction of the stairs. Ed planted himself firmly in front of him.  
  
"No buts, Kurt." Ed said firmly. "Go. Don't worry, she'll calm down." Slowly, he cracked his knuckles. "Unless, of course, you'd like to discuss this with me outside."  
  
Kurt shook his head. Again, he could understand Ed's point of view. "No sir." He answered. "Please, will you ask Morgan to call me?"  
  
"Of course dear." Margaret said.  
  
Kurt cast one longing look at the stairs, and with a heavy sigh, teleported out of the Flannigan home, and into the night.

* * *

_Thanks for bearing with me everyone. I'm afraid I outright removed this story, because I wasn't happy with a few things. I'm currently undergoing a MAJOR overhaul of the last seven chapters I've written, but these first six were good enough for posting, so I re-posted them and left it at that. Sorry if this has messed anything up for some of you, but it was something that I absolutely had to do. _

_Might be a week or two before the next chapter comes up, but don't worry, it'll be a doozy!_

_-Gialia Spiritdancer_


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